


For the Love of You

by Sairyn



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Getting Together, M/M, Marvey Fic Challenges, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairyn/pseuds/Sairyn
Summary: Harvey grew up in a home filled with music and love. Until it all went to shit and the music stopped. After that Harvey held on to the music- but gave up on love. When he met Mike, he thought he heard a melody. Maybe he has found the way to have them both once again.





	

There were very few things Harvey treasured. Harvey enjoyed fast cars, fast living and fast women. And a few men. He dined at the best restaurants, drank top shelf alcohol, and surrounded himself in luxury. But despite taking pleasure in those things, they were not what he treasured most. No, in the still of the night on nights when Captain Kirk couldn't soothe his soul, Harvey turned to music. Harvey had one of the best record collections around. On his shelves were original albums from the golden era of jazz and swing to bluegrass and soul. Most of the time Harvey would find his peace somewhere between the lyrics and melodies. Yet there were other times when he longed for something more. On those occasions, Harvey would reach for his past, captured in the notes of his father’s music. Everything from impromptu jam sessions, live performances, and even a few old cassettes filled with recordings Harvey took in secret when he was a young boy in his parents’ home. He tried not to touch that section often, intent on keeping the music and memories locked away. Because each piece was a story, tied to a memory of his past, of his youth. And while some of those memories were good, most were not.

The first time Harvey heard his father’s music he was lying in his bed. They lived in an old brownstone with a basement which his father turned into a studio. Late  at night when he was supposed to be sleeping he would hear the notes from his father's horn echo through the vents and float into his room. Over time, Harvey learned how to determine his father's mood by the sounds that came out of that horn. Sometimes it was slow, bluesy numbers that sounded like tears; while other times it was warm and passionate like the sun. Then, when he was really feeling inspired, the sounds that came from the floorboards were fast and rhythmic, filled with riffs alternating chords and multiple tempo changes. Yes, Harvey remembers a house filled with music, filled with love. Until it wasn't.

As the years went on the music changed. Gone were the intermix of horns, strings and the lingering smell of smoke, (a nasty habit his mom had called it). More and more the house was silent. When he began to ask why, the answer was “your father’s on tour” which at first he believed, until he found out that was code for your father’s on a bender. One of the many lessons Harvey learned listening to something else that started to echo through the house- his parents shouts.

“Where have you been?”

“What do you care? I know what you're doing.”

“You don't know shit. The boys ask for you…”

“Tell them I'm out earning a living for **them**.”

“And what about me?”

“What about you?”

That was the night the music died. The silence that came after that last spoken verse was deafening, and as Harvey soon learned, it was also permanent.

The years between that night and the night he left were filled with anger, disappointment and a strong will to survive. It's said that when children are faced with the reality of their parents, and not the myth they believe them to be, one of two things happen. They either become more open in the world, or more closed. Marcus, after blaming Harvey for causing his mom to leave them and break up their home, somehow found his way to be more open through forgiveness. Harvey closed off. By sheer will and determination Harvey learned not to need people. People became a means to an end; either necessary for advancement of his career or for his own personal pleasure. And feelings? Feelings were messy and irrelevant. They weren't allowed anywhere near his universe, safely locked away; hidden inside the notes of songs long forgotten.

Harvey would like to believe his decision to hire Mike, the college drop out without a law degree, on sight, was because of his brilliant mind. But in truth it wasn't; it was something else. When Mike rushed into the interview room that day at the Chilton, Harvey thought he heard something. Something like the strum of a chord that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was light, fleeting, sort of like a dream or memory. He ignored it, not knowing it was the first note of a new melody.

Harvey quickly learned that Mike was his polar opposite. A con artist with a bleeding heart hidden beneath the face of an angel. He was by definition an enigma. Dealt a shitty hand in life at a very early age, Mike proved the statistics wrong and became a survivor. It should have made him hard; it should have made him a younger version of Harvey. But it didn't. Instead of closing off to the world around him, Mike opened himself up to the world and invited it in. Mike frustrated Harvey, challenged him and everything he wanted, no needed, to believe in. Harvey needed to stay hard. That was how he made it all those years. And then Mike would smile that goofy ass smile; the one that made his eyes sparkle and convince him to be a little less hard. It was maddening.

“Sometimes you've got to be the bigger bully,” Harvey was fond of saying.

“And the best way to beat a bully is to not become one yourself,” Mike would answer.

Each case they took on together was an opportunity. For Mike it was a chance to do the right thing, to do right by something or someone. And for Harvey it was an opportunity to win and add another notch to his belt. Over the years they found their rhythm, like two voices coming together in harmony. Where one would go high, the other could come in low. They shared a language filled with tv and movie quotes, often stealing wins as they tiptoed along the proverbial line of right and wrong. That's not to say Mike didn't do stupid shit or get himself into more trouble than he was worth- usually in the name of some cause or person who needed something. But Harvey found he couldn't stop himself from bailing him out, doing whatever it took to keep Mike by his side. 

But then the music came back and with it every buried emotion Harvey had kept locked away.

Harvey was fine, he was. It didn't matter that Donna was gone. And it surely didn't matter that Mike was gone. Harvey didn't need anyone, he reminded himself of that every morning when he woke up gasping and sweating. It was just a dream; it didn't mean anything. There is no proof that dreaming of someone equates to wanting them- even if said person is naked in bed waiting for you. Of course, that rationale might work better if Harvey had had the dream once. As it was, he had been having the dream for weeks. When he finally got up the nerve to tell Dr Asgard, when she asked who was it in his dream he told her it was Donna. She stared at him slowly, and Harvey could feel her deconstructing his lie. As she went on about how his dream was merely a symbol of some hidden secret trying to climb its way to the surface, all Harvey could think about was the real person he saw when he went to sleep. Too many nights Harvey would dream of his lips kissing creamy pale skin, his hands feeling a lithe and yet muscular body beneath him, then wake and find himself alone, haunted by the memory of a pair of crystal blue eyes. Mike’s eyes. How was he supposed to tell Dr. Asgard the truth when he wasn't even willing to admit it himself?

Harvey was getting better, at least that was what he told himself. Sure, he still had a few dreams, but he could handle that. Nothing like a little avoidance. It worked in the past and therefore should work now he rationalized. And it did. Until it didn't. Harvey couldn't remember the last time he had a panic attack away from home. He was flushed, his heart pounding; he knew he was moments away from falling over. He couldn't do this here; he wouldn't. If he could just make it home, he would be fine.  

“Harvey…”

Harvey recognized the voice; full of concern, it sounded weird, like an instrument out of tune.

“Harvey, are you okay? I’m calling 911.”

“No..no ambulance, not a heart attack. Panic attack,” he mumbled, trying his best to stay focused.

“How do you know? How can you be sure? I don't think…”

“No, I'm sure. Had them before. Just need to get home.” A glass was thrust into his hand. Harvey drank sloppily, grasping for the melody named Mike until there was nothing left but white noise and blackness.

Harvey’s consciousness came back online by the distant sound of a horn accompanied by a piano, gliding across a melody. Harvey would recognize that song anywhere. It was one of his father’s originals. “For the Love of You”. For a moment he saw his old room, imagined that he was hearing the tune through the floorboards. The memory made him smile, made him want to stay here, to live in this dream and not come back, but a soft voice infiltrated his brain.

“Harvey?” Mike's voice.

Harvey vaguely heard shuffling of feet, determined that Mike was pacing for some reason, one of his various nervous tells. Harvey wanted to wake up but he just wasn't ready to.  

“God, I hope you are okay. I keep checking on you, not that you would know, but I do. I remember once you told me, and I'm sure you don't remember this because you were drunk at the time. But anyway, you told me about why music means so much to you. And that when things were really hard you would pull out your dad’s music and play them all over and over until you felt better. You even showed me where you kept them. I know you hate it when I touch your records, well, any of your things, but I thought maybe it would help. It’s nice Harvey, I can see why it makes you feel better, feel connected. I feel like I am stealing something though, some secret. I probably shouldn't have, but you needed this, and truth be told so did I.”

The bed dipped as Mike sat.

“I need to tell you something. And I don't know if I ever would've, but then today happened and you really scared me. So if I don't say this now, I will always regret it. Not that it matters, you can't hear me. But I need to do this, confess this before I walk away from it forever. I have never told you this and I will never say it again..but I love you. I have from the moment I met you. God, I just love you so fucking much. I have carried this secret with me for years, hiding it. Funny, that this secret seems heavier than the being a fake lawyer one. Maybe because we share that one. So I am saying it, for once and for all- out loud. And yeah, it may be a chicken shit way to do it considering you are out cold, but maybe now that it's done, I can move on. Rachel is no substitute for you, but I do love her. Not like I love you, but hopefully it will be enough.”

Harvey’s mind was fighting. Trying to decide if it should stay within the comforting lullabies of his past, or deal with the realities of a possible future with the man he loves. He heard the rise of the music in the background and knew his father’s solo was about to start. Some days Harvey really missed his father. Through his dad’s music he remembered all the warmth and joy, and yes even the pain and heartache. But most of all he remembered the feeling of love, something that has been missing in his life for so long. He felt the soft brush of Mike’s thumb across his cheek as the horn reached his crescendo.

Harvey’s mind flashed to the moment he met Mike, the music notes he heard when he shook his hand. Each day since then they have been blending their individual sounds, weaving them together to create a unique melody that is theirs and theirs alone. All of those moments, all of those notes, came together in that moment.

How could Harvey have been so blind? They've been making music for years and didn't even know it. Music and love; everything Harvey ever wanted, all he still wanted. He sent up a silent prayer and a private thank you.

_“Thanks for the music, Dad.”_

“I love you too…,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering as they tried to open.

The bed shook again as Mike darted up.

“Harvey? You're awake, you scared me something awf...wait. Oh shit…” he groaned, “How much did you hear?”

Harvey opened his eyes to see a pair of blue ones looming over him. He maneuvered himself upright to sit against the backboard, essentially making room for Mike to join him. He patted the bed, indicating for Mike to sit back down.

“I heard all of it, Mike.” Harvey waited patiently, knowing Mike’s mind hadn't yet caught up to Harvey's own confession.

“Um, well, you see… Hold up, did you say you love me too?”

“I was wondering when your genius brain would catch that. Yes, I did.”

 “Are you sure? Because you sort of passed out and…”

_Somethings just have to be proven_ , Harvey decided, cutting off Mike’s freak out with a kiss.

“Very sure,” he whispered against Mike’s lips, when they broke apart.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry just getting around to posting. I made it just under the wire for the latest marveyficchallenges. Thanks for all for reading.


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